


Fucking Rifts

by olliolli_oxenfree



Series: amatusparadeweek [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, and sometimes that thing is sex, bull and sera are here too, but they're there for like a second, things don't always go as planned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olliolli_oxenfree/pseuds/olliolli_oxenfree
Summary: Day six of Amatus Parade Week: Accident
Demons





	

**Author's Note:**

> Can be found on Tumblr [here!](http://fleetingshadowdm.tumblr.com/post/146481400081)

Daylight travel in the desert is too brutal, as are nightly ventures when temperatures plummet. They make up the difference by camping during the two extremes and acting in the dawn and twilight hours. Darrell lies stretched out in the tent, a cloth band in his mouth to keep him quiet. Sounds carry anywhere they camp, but in the Hissing Wastes they carry _far_.

The blazing sun overhead turns the tents into so many furnaces. Even before they begin Darrell is covered in sweat. Yet Dorian is still fully clothed. Something Darrell would be quick to rectify if he didn’t have a frost spell running down his naked torso.

He bites back a whine as the hand stops short of his stomach and begins to trace back up his ribs. His teeth clamp down on the gag and his back arches to press firm against the touch. He does realize his growing impatience, but it seems to matter little when Dorian’s hand _won’t speed up_.

Dorian chuckles at the jerky movements. “Now, now. Patience _is_ a virtue.”

Darrell considers for one brief moment removing the gag and telling Dorian to stuff his patience— _along with your cock if you_ don’t _mind_ —right up Darrell’s ass. Then the tent glows green as his left hand crackles, and one of the scouts screams.

He scrambles up at Cassandra’s shout of “Demons!” while one hand wrenches the gag away and the other pulls up a sheet to cover his waist. He reaches for his sword and realizes there’s a worse part to this mess: it's two-handed.

_Shit._

There’s a roar of fire from outside as Dorian unleashes an attack. Modesty is probably the better part of valor. It will be awkward, especially with the sword in his off hand, but he’ll manage.

Luckily, the demons aren't many. His scouts are sharp, and they mostly just need him to close the rift. Though it will be a long time before he can look back on this and think of _luck_.

“Looking good, boss!”

“ _Thank you_ , Bull.” Somewhere behind him, Sera cackles.

Cassandra gives the sheet a look of utmost disgust.

The ties of the tent flaps are knotted together when he returns. “Wh— _Dorian_!” He drops his blade, hiking up the sheet to cover his ass.

“I want to see if you freckle!”


End file.
